


seventy times seven

by koganewest



Series: Post-Season 8 [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Casual Sex, Friends With Benefits, Hurt Keith (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) Angst, M/M, Pining, Pining James (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unrequited Love, i hurt both of them really badly, in which i set up smut but don't actually write it, james loves keith and keith loves shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-02 15:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17266862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koganewest/pseuds/koganewest
Summary: Despite the burning freshness of the wound, James can recognize this for certain: in time, they both will heal. There will come a day in which James can look at him without feeling like there's something being unjustly ripped away from him, like he was deprived of oxygen, like he was ruthlessly taunted by the one thing he desired most. Healing would come for James, but today is not the day — today, he will not escape from Keith unscathed.Hopefully, he wouldn't always be stuck in the same endless loop, orbiting a star that would never provide him enough warmth to thrive.





	seventy times seven

It’s masochistic, James knows, but the realization doesn’t stop him at all. 

In fact, nothing stops either him or Keith from ducking out of a crowded class reunion party and into the hallway, where Keith grabs his hand and tugs him along with desperation. The blush on James’s cheeks has nothing to do with the single beer he drank earlier in the night; he wouldn’t even go so far as to call himself tipsy. Keith, now pulling them into a nearby room, is the sole reason for any and all of his social misconducts and betraying reflexes, as he’d — regrettably, James dares to think — always been. 

The second the door closes behind them, James grabs ahold of Keith by his waist, pushing his back against the wall in attempt to regain a semblance of control over the quickly escalating situation. The force of the gesture elicits a noise from Keith, needy yet simultaneously relieved, and James knows it will be the soundtrack of his traitorous dreams for at least the next year.

All the warning signs are there, but not even all the red flags in the world could do anything to prevent James from stepping forward, cupping Keith’s cheek with forbidden delicacy, and pressing their lips together. 

Keith’s response is to amplify his desperation, even though James hadn’t thought it possible, as his hands grasp here, there, everywhere all at once. James knows he’s grappling with the lack of power, so with a smug nip at Keith’s bottom lip, James demands that he relinquish his struggle by hoisting him up, easing Keith’s legs around his hips, and pressing him into the door. It does the trick, as James had suspected, because Keith goes absolutely pliant in his grasp. 

“You’re okay with this, right,” Keith affirms, and for a fleeting moment, he sounds actually concerned. James knows better, though. He knows that Keith has only ever really cared about one person in the entire time they’d known each other, and that person is not James. 

“Yeah, ‘course I am,” he huffs, slightly annoyed as he yanks at Keith’s stupid cropped jacket. “Why wouldn’t I be?” He asks with a tense tone. Keith is quiet for a little while, save for breathy moans when James makes a move that’s just right. He’s still propped against the door, surprisingly, since he’s no longer the lanky kid that punched him all those years ago. 

Now, James feels the force of that punch once more, yet magnified by millions and lacking any physical repercussions.

“You know I’ll probably say his name, right?”

The worst part of it all, James thinks, is that he doesn’t even have to ask who Keith means. It’s the same ever-present “he” that Keith had been staring at all night, waiting for the attention he craves but they all know he’ll never receive. 

Briefly, he wonders what Shiro could have possibly done to earn the coveted prize of Keith’s affections, until he realizes there’s an even more puzzling mystery: how could Shiro toss it all aside like it meant absolutely nothing? Did he know what James would give to take his place, to accept the love Keith so willingly offers, though he expects nothing but unfinished conversations and picked-at scars in return? Did he even _understand?_

“I don’t care” is the only response James can manage to formulate, despite that it’s quite possibly the furthest from the truth he could be. 

A curt nod from Keith accepts his lie, though it’s as flimsy and transparent as cellophane; they both ignore it in favor of searing touches and heated gasps. After a while of teasing, Keith begins to get antsy and starts asking for more without asking at all. His white-knuckled grip speaks for volumes on its own, so James collects him in his arms and carries him toward the small bed. 

“C’mon, Griffin, hurry up,” Keith instructs, and James should’ve known better than to assume he wouldn’t be bossy just because he’d let James take charge. 

“Good to know you’re still as impatient as ever,” James retorts, laying Keith on the sheets and pulling at his longer hair a little forcefully. A lot had changed in the time he wasn’t on Earth, and even more had changed when the war was over. It was comforting in a strange way to know that he was still impatient among other things. 

James fell in love with him because he was reckless, daring, and impulsive. This time, though, Keith is all three of those things at his expense. He both reaps the benefits and suffers the consequences. 

The experience in itself is oxymoronic — bittersweet — and yet James just can’t get enough.

* * *

When they both have cleaned up and relaxed considerably, James takes the risk of tugging on Keith’s arm, pulling him closer. Surprisingly, Keith gives into the gesture and nestles himself in James’ embrace, and though James wants nothing more than to over-analyze the reaction, he knows it’s best if he just basked in the warmth. 

A long time passes in which the only sound James can hear is the sound of Keith's breathing and his own thrumming heartbeat.

“He talked to me before the party,” Keith whispers eventually to break the silence, and the sentence causes James’s hand to still where he’d been rubbing Keith’s back. Once again, James doesn't even have to ask who he means; his answer was moaned into the pillow merely minutes beforehand. The tension in James’s body intensifies, but Keith continues on like he hadn’t noticed at all. “He pulled me aside and said he had something important to tell me.”

Keith sighs, like he’s holding the weight of the world, and James begins to consider that maybe, in his own way, he is. 

“I got hopeful, like a stupid fucking _fool_ , and then he told me he was going to propose to Curtis,” Keith scoffs bitterly, like he's laughing in the face of the irony. In attempt to ease him, James runs a hand through his hair and weaves his fingers through the soft, dark locks. It makes Keith shiver, but once again, he continues on. “He said that he knows it seems sudden, but he's sure of his decision. And he— he’s going to start looking for a ring.”

“Oh, Keith,” he soothes as said man begins to tense in his arms. For a minute, James is almost sure he's about to cry, but instead, Keith just grasps onto his arm and buries his face in James’s neck. 

“I'm sorry for using you,” Keith whispers, “I'm so sorry.”

Eventually, James sighs in passive acceptance. He shouldn't have suspected anything different from the ordeal, especially because he knew from the start that he wouldn't mean anything to Keith in the long run. All along he’d known that the next day would only result in Keith’s disappearance back on some Blade assignment and his own despair and longing after the boy he’d never been able to call his own. 

One thing was certain: Keith is, was, and always will be a flight risk. In the face of pain, he’s always been one to flee at the earliest opportunity. James wants so badly to believe it’s because Keith is weak, but deep down, he knows the truth — that Keith was as far from weak as anyone could possibly get. The reality was that Keith had been through hell and back a million times over, but he’d always come out swinging. He never gave up and never surrendered, but sometimes he took too many hits. Sometimes the world knocked him off his feet too many consecutive times, and he needed to take time to recover before he emerged again. 

One more thing was certain: Shiro had knocked him unconscious, and James was just a pawn in his recovery period. 

At least, James considers with some twisted satisfaction, Keith is hurt as well. It soothes his aching heart to know that Keith isn't happy either, even if his pain has nothing to do with James’s own.

In time, they both will heal. Despite the burning freshness of the wound, James can recognize this. There will come a day in which James can look at him without feeling like there's something being unjustly ripped away from him, like he was deprived of the oxygen he thought he deserved, like he was ruthlessly teased and taunted by the one thing he truly desired most. Healing would come for James, but today is not the day; today, he will not escape from Keith unscathed. He doesn't think that day will occur anytime soon, either. 

So James just lets himself fall asleep, not even bothering to acknowledge the apology at all.

* * *

Hours later, James wakes up in the dead of the night, and he's alone. 

With heavy steps echoing, he makes his way to the Garrison hangar, where Keith's ship is gone like it’d never even been there.

Though he'd predicted it, the disappearance widens the gaping hole in James's chest and draws angry tears from his eyes. The loss of him will sting for a while, but James will find ways to distract himself from it all. Maybe someday, maybe eventually. 

Maybe he’ll even go as far as to meet someone new. In reality, James knows he could keep it up for a few weeks, maybe even a month, before things became complicated and James fucked things up. He’d last long enough to distract himself but never long enough to truly fix the problem — never long enough to rid himself of his foolish attachment. 

He’d always be stuck in the same endless loop, orbiting a star of a man that would never provide him enough warmth to thrive. 

Keith had always had a habit of underestimating his own worth — he never really understood the impact he had on people. In assuming that he had no effect on others, he often hurt people much more than he meant to. Though it was probably a learned behavior enforced by plenty of circumstances in which Keith really had no lasting influence on those around him, it wasn’t always the case. Sometimes Keith was irreplaceable, impossible to cover up, like an old stain or scar tissue. 

Now, though, it’s all fresh. James is still scrubbing at the fabric and dressing his wounds. 

It’s the third time Keith has left him behind. First, when he was booted from the Garrison, when he was mourning the loss of Shiro openly — and taking out his pain on others. Second, when the war ended and Keith was _still_ mourning Shiro — except this time it was in silence. Third, now, nearly two years after the previous occurrence, as James stares at the empty spot where Keith’s ship had once been docked. 

He doesn’t know how long he stands in its wake, gaping and surprised, angry and tearful. 

No one comes to console him in the dead of night. He stands there, letting the cold air wash over him for as long as he can possibly bear it. The destruction upon his well-being and mental health is now irreparable, and James will face the repercussions until he’s blue with fatigue. 

He can’t face the deserted area for much longer, so he retreats from the hangar with his head hanging and his feet dragging. Now, with no one to turn to, he heads to his room in the hopes of sleeping through his despairbut knows that, in reality, he won't be able to get any undisturbed rest. It’s depressing, James knows, but it’s what he must live. 

After all, he really has no choice. To Keith, he's just collateral damage — just as meaningless as the desert sand in his shoes and the shattered pieces of his own heart.

* * *

Morning is nearly as harsh and jarring as the pain in his chest. He wonders if that was the last time he'd ever see Keith, or if he'll end up right back where he was merely hours ago, between Keith's legs and at his mercy. 

He also wonders if it’s possible that the foul taste in his mouth was left there by Keith as he vacated both the bed and James’s arms. 

Though, really, it doesn’t matter if he did. James would forgive him as many times as he got the opportunity — seventy times seven.

**Author's Note:**

> reference in title and last line: the bible states that you should forgive someone more than just seven times - you should forgive them seventy times seven times. which basically means an infinite amount of times bc thats such a big number
> 
> i really enjoyed writing this and im even more proud of it. i hope you liked it! im on tumblr [here](https://koganewest.tumblr.com)!!  
> -lily


End file.
